Song of The Bull and The Stranger
by Artykinz
Summary: Taken place after Season 7 Gendry is traveling with Jon and Co in order to head back to Winterfell before the Great Winter. Little does he know how great the winter shall be now that a reunion he didn't think would happen nor in the way he expects, becomes reality. #Gendrya
1. Chapter 1

Gendry stared off upon the waves, feeling the brush of the cool air gave way that they were nearing Widow's Watch. Listening as the imp came out with a chalice of wine and a gruff looking expression upon his face, which caused the bastard boy to quirk a brow at him. Wondering why exactly the imp was in such a sour mood before he stood beside him. Sharing the silence, Gendry tapped his gloved hand upon the banister that lead to the deeps of the Shivering Sea below; parting his lips he spoke just to break the silence.

"I never been to the North before, I can very well see why too. It's fucking cold." He held on to the banister with both hands and leaned back, stretching as he heard Tyrion scoff; sipping his wine before he cleared his throat slightly and replied in turn. "Ah, the land filled with snow. Not many happy memories within the North." This caused the blacksmith to quirk a brow in curiosity, but it was not obliged for Daenerys Targaryen had came out of the cabin. Along with her Jon Snow. Straightening up, he bowed his head to the dragon queen in respect before addressing her.

"I never got a chance to thank you for saving my friend, if it wasn't for you i believe his family would have had another member to mourn." Daenerys smiled softly, before she looked at Jon. Gendry recognized that look, it was a look all too familiar with couples first starting out. Watching out the corner of his eye Tyrion dismissing himself, Daenerys began to speak. "How long til we head into Winterfell, Jon Snow?" She inclined her head toward the King of the North, awaiting his answer. Hell Gendry was too, he was eager to see what it was like. How the people endured the blistering cold that was now dusting his nose, cheeks, and tips of his ears a light pink.

"If we are goin' the way i think we are, i would say about a day and a half's ride to Hornwood castle. We'd be going through Hornwood Forest and traveling through Sheepshead Hills by the next day. Should be at Winterfell's gates come twilight hour." He informed, staring over near the cat's head of the ship. Feeling the boat dock, they began to set their journey for Winterfell; considering it a cold ride. Gendry made sure to bundle up in as many furs as he possibly could. Traveling with Jon, Daenerys, Davos, Jorah and The Hound was quite strange. Jon and Daenerys traveled closely together, speaking in whispers that he could barely understand due to the howling of the winter wind. Causing the bastard boy to yank down the hood of his cloak to further shield his face from the blistering cold. It wasn't until a grunt caught his attention that he cast his gaze to the left, noticing the Hound was watching him.

At first Gendry couldn't stop looking at the mass of scar upon the man's right face before he shook his head and looked again once more, he was probably just cold the same as he was. But as they continued to travel, he watched the Hound get ever so closer to him before he opened his mouth to speak. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't stare at me while we are traveling, it's very unsettling Hound."

"Sandor"

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Sandor Clegane, i met you once before." He noted, causing Gendry to look at the Hound again. Blue eyes studying him before recollection came to mind, he was the man that he had to pull Arya away from when he dueled Beric and won his freedom. His eyes narrowed. "Ah... so you do remember me."

"How could i forget, you were the one that Arya wanted to kill the moment you were afraid of a little fire. Tell me, _Sandor_. Are you still afraid of it?" Gendry's tone was distrustful as he stared at the Hound with disdain, which caused Sandor to laugh as they drew closer to Hornwood Forest. "Did I look fucking scared when those bloody damn dragons came swooping down and saved our asses? No. I got over my fear and so should you." Gendry slowly looked at him then, this monster didn't know him. Didn't know half of what he was capable of much less his fears. Which caused Gendry to scoff as he stared forward, his leather gloved hands gripping tightly to his reigns upon the horse as it steadily galloped in tune with Sandor.

"Ah i see, since you joined the Brotherhood without Banners you are safe to assume that you know everyone based upon what your _Lord of Light_ tells you. Please spare me your hypocritical bullshit, we both know why Arya wished to kill you that night. You should be thanking me for not letting her." He watched as Sandor galloped forward and stopped in front of him, causing his brow to furrow in confusion and anger.

"To seven hells to the lord of light, that's not what i was talking about you bastard child."

Gendry rolled his eyes within annoyance, deciding to play his game before Daenerys and Jon got too far ahead to where he would lose his way to Winterfell thanks to the Hound. "Fine, i'll play your little game so that we can get this over with and move on before they leave us behind. What am i afraid of?"

"Your feelings."

"What in the bloody hell are you on about? My _feelings_?" Gendry spoke in confusion only to get an eye roll from the Hound whom moved his steed forward and galloped. Leaving Gendry in confusion before he angry followed foot, steadfast as he met up with Sandor. "You can't just tell me something and walk away when i don't get it, tell me what you are on about Hound or so help me I'll-."

"Or so help you'll wha?" Sandor started, his tone taunting before he rose his brows and looked at the boy. He smirked only slightly before he glanced back at Jon and the Dragon Queen. "You're a stupid cunt aren't you? Do you remember when I was freed from Ser Beric?" Gendry scoffed, what kind of answer was that? He remained silent for a time before Sandor looked at him then, expecting an answer, sighing Gendry responded with a dull tone in his voice. Obviously bored with the conversation already when he didn't give him a proper answer in the first place.

"Aye, I do."

"Then you will come to understand I watched your little lover's quarrel with Arya that night." This caused Gendry to blink in surprise before he laughed bemusedly as if he didn't believe him before Sandor continued. "Where you were talking about family, saying you never had a family. That she-" Gendry stopped him right there, glaring at him. How could he forget that moment. That memory that stung him in the heart like a needle, like Arya's needle. The recollection was a sad one due to the fact that he thought he'd never see her again, that she hated him for choosing the Brotherhood over her. Swallowing he looked at Sandor with a heavy expression, as if he remembered the fight before he collected himself; shaking his head.

"What of it, from my understanding that conversation was not yours to hear."

"But I heard it and I watched it, after all I am the one that kidnapped her the day the red woman took you away. She saw her brother get mutilated by the Frey's, cut off his head and sowed his pet's head on his shoulders they did. Paraded him around like he was some big ass wild boar they hunted in a game." This news however caused Gendry's brow to furrow in concern for Arya, how horrible for a young girl to go through such a thing. To see such a thing. But why was Sandor telling him this, why now of all things? Sure, he remembered the tone she carried. How she stated she could be his family in the most heartfelt tone she had, which he had thought at the time was just a ploy to get him to go with her to serve her brother. The very one that she watched die. It was his fault, if he had went he would have never let her see such a horrid sight and he would have never been in the predicament he was in when coming across the red woman. Where she and his uncle tried to kill him for some type of ritual, using his "King's Blood" as she stated.

"That's awful... I can't help but take some of the blame for that, if I had gone she never would have..." Watching as Sandor shrugged, agreeing with him they held a quiet silence. The blades of the crisp air hitting his lungs like a thousand needles or was it because they were talking about a time long since forgotten. The topic of Arya was strange though, why would he even mention her at a time like this, when Jon was trying to settle alliances for the war to come. The Great Winter that was slowly making it's way to Westeros, to the entire world. As if reading his mind, Sandor spoke.

"She's in Winterfell"


	2. Chapter 2

He stared at the fire, listening to the crackle and pop of the flames as they camped for the night. Jon stating that they needed a days rest if they were going to reach Winterfell by twilight. Which made Gendry quiet as he stared at the burning embers that let the flames of fire dance upon their burning ashes. Blue eyes reflected the fire's light in a dull green glow as he sat there, contemplating on what he was going to do.

"You look like you're taking a shit."

This caused the bastard to slowly glare at Sandor, before he rolled his eyes. "I do not look like i'm taking a shit." This caused the Hound to laugh as he neared the fire and sat down, staring into it briefly before he looked up at the boy. A tired look on his face but a tired look nonetheless.

"You're a cunt."

"Are you trying to pick a fight with me? Need you know that I have a hammer, I'm not afraid to use it." Gendry threatened lightly, nodding to the two handed hammer that laid beside him. Which caused Sandor to appreciate the make, before shrugging as his eyes returned to Gendry. "Put your cock away, I'm not going to fight you." Glancing at the Hound, he became a little more at ease before flicking his blue eyes back to the fire. The sound of the night was much different here than it was back in the South near Kings Landing. There weren't murmuring of voices near him in the dead of night, no people going back and forth across the Forge. No hum of chatter in the market places and bazaar, just the howling of winter's breath beating hard on his form like he angered her. His cold fingers gripped the furs around him tighter, it was one thing to run all through the lands beyond the wall when wight's were chasing you. But another to just sit still in the blistering cold wondering why exactly did you agree to become a human popsicle in the first place.

He wondered how Arya would take his sudden appearance with Jon, after all he remembered tenderly how she missed her brother's so. The way she was eager to get her family all together again, he wondered if Arya had succeeded in that. Well, as much as she was able. From what Sandor had claimed she went through a lot of things since they parted and he felt bad for her due to the fact that he could have been by her side. Protecting her better than that little blade of hers, though it was a well made blade. Gendry knew that at some point or another it would fracture and she'd be fairly upset. But he'd offer to fix it for his lady, offer to fix anything that ailed her to be perfectly honest. It was before a ball of snow stuck the side of his face that he pulled out of his reverie. "The bloody fuck was that for!?" Gendry shouted angry, causing Sandor to laugh. Watching Daenerys, Jon, and Davos look their way.

Jorah, whom was near the fire with Gendry and Sandor shook his head with a kind smile before he fixed his pallet of fur upon the snow and bundled up for a stiff and chilled sleep. Sandor watched Jorah for a brief moment, before he turned his attention back to Gendry whom was getting up. Sandor watched as the boy gripped the hilt of his hammer with both hands as he made his way toward him, sitting upon his knees he waited. But like expected, he watched the boy lower the hammer causing Sandor to smirk cockily. "I knew you wouldn't do it, you're not like your father."

"What do you know about my father? I heard stories that you were allied to the Lannister's once."

"Once."

"Then why should I even trust you let alone believe you!" Gendry declared, the hammer thudding hard on the ground as he stood in Sandor's face as he too stood. The Hound stared at the boy for a moment, taking the boy in before scoffing. "Because if it wasn't for me, your lady love would have been dead. Do you know what happens to little girls on the roads all alone?" Sandor asked, watching as Gendry held an expression of horror and disgust. Which caused Sandor to nod in agreement, folding his arms before he sat back down.

"Why do you even care about Arya?"

"Why do you?"

The question caused Gendry to stare at Sandor in confusion, slowly sitting down as he sighed deeply. His blue eyes finding it's way to the flames once more, grabbing the furs and pulling them around his form once more. Going quiet before he spoke in a soft voice. "A lady could never love a bastard."

"She is no lady."

"Then what is she?"

"Yours." Before Gendry could speak to him, Sandor turned his back to the boy and laid down, terminating any form of continuing speech before he sighed angrily. How could a bastard be with a lady when it was never allowed, even if he wanted to. He was just a bastard, she was a noble. That was not how the world worked, that was not how anything worked. But he wished it did. Too tired to stare at the fires any longer, he opened his flask strapped to his left side and chased down some ale. It was a nice warm feeling, going down his throat. When the warmth of the alcohol settled into his system as he sat there drinking in silence, he tossed the flask to the side; bundled up and readied himself for slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been almost a week since Little Finger had met his end at the edge of her valerian dagger. When he pleaded for his life to her elder sister Sansa, the look of surprise. Betrayal. Fear, dripping from his pores. It was satisfying to feel his skin give way to the very blade that was fated to kill her little brother Bran. Poetic really.

Even as she watched as his body was peeled off the stone floor and to the kennels where Ramsay had kept his hounds to nearly starving, there was no emotion given from the young Stark girl at her sister's behavior to how the traitor's body was dealt with. Only that it was. Sighing, unable to take more of the silence within her chambers. Her hazel eyes wandered toward Needle that laid beside her valerian dagger close to her bedside. Rolling upon her side to face the blades, she slowly reached out to grab the valerian dagger. Shifting to her back, she played her fingers along the blade. A rapping upon her chamber door startled her, causing her to jerk upright within her featherbed. Causing the blade to slice through her index finger. The swelling and beading of blood that oozed from her wound she gave no notice to as she glared annoyed at the guard before her.

"Well on with it then, why are you here?" She asked, tucking her unkempt chestnut brown hair behind her ears. Over the years it had gotten longer, she wondered if it was the same length as when she was eight. The thought was a brief one before she mentally shook the memories away. For what followed would be a memory she did not care to relive. "Mi'lady... there is news that your brother and his entourage is about to be approaching the gates. Would my lady like to greet Lord Snow and the Dragon Queen with Lady Stark?" His request left her quiet, yet she could feel the thrumming roar of her heart beating in her ears.

Was Jon home?

The Dragon Queen was to enter Winterfell?

So many thoughts ran through the young girl's head that without a word, she threw off the fur covers. Shoving the guard to the side, she rushed out of her chambers. Bare feet slapping against the cold hard floor as she raced through the fortress. The sounds of men and armor could be heard around the corner. The clanking of the chainmail as each armored boot slapped against the stones as she closed in on the gaggle of people, left her slowly skidding to a halt at the array of people.

They spoke in a language that she could not understand and with not knowing what they were speaking of, she reached for Needle. Only to realize that she had left her blades within her chambers in her eagerness to meet with her elder brother and sister. The tattooed men looked at the puny Stark girl before moving forward again. Arya stared at them briefly before hearing a familiar voice she didn't think she'd hear again.

"Ello Mi'lady."

"Gendry?" She asked, her hazel eyes squinting suspiciously at him. His hair was cut short and he grew taller than he already was. But he still had that goofy smile, still had those piercing blue eyes that could bore into your soul. "Aye." There wasn't much else he could say other than to see a girl moving at almost inhumane speed to tackle him to the ground. He felt his head collide with the stone surface, reaching up to rub the back of his head. His eyes screwed shut, he didn't expect his extra dagger in case he was to lose his two-handed hammer in a battle of any kind against his throat.

"I swear to the old gods Jaqen... if this is you... if you killed Gendry for the red woman, I will cut you from navel to nose and make you choke on your own flesh and organs!" She hissed darkly at him, her brown shoulder-length hair brushed against his cheek as he stared up at Arya. The things she went through without him, because he was stubborn she was forced to be strong. Without him, she was forced to grow up... to place her trust in no one. To trust no one because he was the first one she gave that trust to and he not only threw it away but tossed her to the wolves. But here she was... leading the pack, at his throat. She was a marvel, she was extraordinary just as when he first met her. Disguised as a boy... to which was dumb on her part if anyone were as smart as he to know that she was a girl. But smart enough to only trust him, which was an honor.

Sadness filled Gendry's eyes then as he stared at the ones the color of the earth. The color of wolves fur and of nature. Of freedom. Slowly drawing his hand up he moved it toward her face, making a move to cup her cheek when she quickly gripped his wrist tightly. "Answer me or so help me I'll cut your throat where you lay!"

"I'm not your enemy Arry, what happened to you when we last met was my fault all of it. If I had not gone with you when you wanted me to... then this... you wouldn't be like this... you wouldn't be..." He trailed off then, wincing slightly at her grip on his wrist.

"No one?" She spoke quietly, noticing she was hurting him and moved the dagger away from his throat then, straddling him as she stared down at him. He breathed sharply through his nose as his brow furrowed. "That's the thing Arry, you aren't no one. You're someone to me."

She scoffed then, looking away before crawling off him. Allowing him to sit up then as she folded her arms over her chest, still having hold of his dagger. "Thought I was just a lady to you." Her stubbornness he remembered, how he partially wished she grew out of that only caused him to sit up and pinch the bridge of his nose before laughing. "You are... but you are my lady."

Those very words caused Arya to look at him then, she could feel the constriction of her throat. A lump that seemed to have manifested itself, exposing that she was trying to hold back tears. Watching Gendry slowly push himself to his feet, caused her to grip the hilt of the dagger for security. But she knew firsthand that she would never use it on him, all this time. She had thought that the red woman had killed him. All this time she had thought he was dead and he had made no move in order to contact her. To tell her he was alive! The thought caused the constriction in her throat to cease. Filling her small being with anger as she tossed the dagger to the side as he moved toward her slowly, only to feel her fist collide with the leather armor strapped to his chest. He felt the thud, he felt the force. Grunting, he stumbled back slightly. Feeling the area where she had punched, before looking up at her with a quirked brow. Laughing slightly only caused her impish face she had grown into to contort in anger. To lightly turn a shade of red, he didn't want to kindle the fire by telling her that she struck like a girl. So he bit his bottom lip in silence before she spoke.

"I thought you were dead..." She muttered moving toward him as he moved toward her, a few feet away from each other they stood in silence for a brief moment before Gendry spoke. "Well... if it wasn't for Ser Davos, I would be." Nodding, Arya stood there tight-lipped before hearing the screeching of dragons overhead. Indicating that the Dragon Queen was within Winterfell.

"Should we go see what that noise was?"

"It was one of Daenerys's Dragons, do not worry."

"Dragons... here? In Winterfell?"

"And here I thought you were only excited for the names to be etched off your list." Gendry teased, causing Arya to punch him in the arm before grabbing his hand. Tugging him toward the courtyard.

"Not much of a list left when you only have two people left to kill."

"You've been busy."

"So have you." She stated, glancing at his two-handed hammer that was strapped to his back. Glancing at Arya he chuckled before letting her lead him through the hallways of the Winterfell. "Yeah well... I had to keep my mind busy thinking of blacksmithing than what fate my friends have met through the eleven years that have passed." He explained, staring at her as she continued to lead him in silence before slowly stopping. She looked at him over her shoulder and gave him a faint smile.

"Hotpie is fine, he's at the Inn where he was the last we saw him at. He's made quite a place for himself... and his food is even better than before." He could hear the excitement in her voice, the faint glimmer of hope that his Arry was still there. Beneath the wild, beneath the hatred, and the betrayal of everyone around her. There still laid the stubborn little girl that curled against his side at night in fear of the other men fated to the night's watch to touch her. Why did she choose him was still beyond him, but he wouldn't have the outcome any other way.


	4. Chapter 4

The sounds of goblets clinked with the hum of voices bouncing off the stone walls belonging to weary men. The silver and white banners that bore the sigil of the direwolf hung proudly along the walls of the Great Hall. Contrasted by the torches that flickered its flame to ignite light within the massive hall. Gendry's crystal blue eyes wandered, aghast by the structure surrounding him. Never in his life did he think that he would ever get to see such grand a hall.

"You're staring," Arya remarked, leather boots scuffing the stone floors as they clapped in rhythm with Gendry.

"I grew up in Flea Bottom, remember? All that I ever got to see of Kings Landing is the piss and shit that littered the streets before the forge. The smell of soldering iron, soot, and charcoal burning in the furnace. The sweet sing of my hammer hitting the anvil was all that kept me going when all was for naught." He passionately spoke, slowly drawing his attention down to Arya who had stopped to listen to him. Her hazel eyes studying his mannerisms with skepticism.

"What do you mean when all was for naught?" She asked curiously, her arms slowly folding against her chest as she shifted her weight to support her body leaning to the left. The way she would wrinkle her nose when she didn't believe him was an interesting quirk that he had came to be aware of, even the knowledge that she drew close to him when she knew that he would stop her from doing something rash.

"Does it matter now?"

"I suppose not." She retorted before walking past him, only for him to clasp his calloused hand around her wrist to prevent her from going any further. "Arry." Yanking her arm quickly out of his grip, she drew Needle and pointed it at his chin. Her expression was impassive, impossible to read. But the glimmer of her hazel eyes expressed emotion, a raw natural emotion that she was trying to suppress.

"It does fucking matter, Gendry."

"It doesn't." He argued, unphased by her tiny blade. Even slapping it away as he took a step toward her, watching her tense at his actions. Preparing herself if she was going to get pummeled, the body language itself angered him. Causing his hands to ball up into fists as he stared at the petite woman before him. He knew she was waiting for him to speak, otherwise, she would never have let him slap her blade away. Never left herself so open. So spoke he did. "Seven hells, Arya. It doesn't matter now because I am here. Despite the odds. Despite the bloody fucking brotherhood. Despite the red woman and her sickening fascination with my King's Blood. I. Am. Here. Here to be given another chance by the grace of the seven to stand in the awe of your presence."

Arya's stance relaxed, unsure of what to say she remained silent. Casting her hazel eyes around at the Dothraki, unsullied and Winterfell Guards that filled the room. Some were observing the ordeal, others were preoccupied with the Great Winter to come. The Long Night as her brother explained, which some of the information was already prepped for her by no one other than Bran. "My presence isn't that awe spiring, Gendry. Quit making stuff up and causing a scene." Arya retorted, disregarding his words as she slipped through the crowd.

Gendry stared after her, mouth agape, before the muscles in his jaw tightened. Stomping after her, he didn't care if he rudely shoved through Lords and Nobles to get to her. It wasn't like he wasn't used to being treated like a lowborn by the kin of his lady high. But to be disregarded by the very woman that he couldn't forget struck a chord with him. A chord that was searing, burning hot through his body and soul. Following after her, he made his way towards the courtyard. Where the snow was drifting down and getting caught within the short strands of his black hair. Melting into droplets of water underneath the moonlit clear skies, as he inhaled the sharp crisp air through his lungs. Then exhaled a puff of silvery vapor that curled upward toward the heavens.

"Would you quit your running Arya. Bloody fucking hell... I've done enough of it near the wall." He exclaimed, bending over to catch his breath. Hands resting on his knees as he glanced around to see where exactly she had gotten to. But there was silence right until the moment she tried to sneak up on him, grabbing the hammer that was strapped to his back he defended her blow quickly and stared at her in sheer surprise as he twisted around to meet her. Confusion filled his face before he braced himself to defend another attack of hers. "Arry."

Another blow struck his hammer, causing a song of iron against steel to spark between them. Annoyed, Gendry paid close attention to the way her footwork shifted in the snow. Estimating that she would attack soon, he dodged himself completely out of the way and grabbed her by the back of her neck. Yanking her back, he looked down at her with a quirked eyebrow and inclined his head to the left when she tried to smack him. With his free hand, he plucked Needle by the blade out of her hand. Feeling the sting of the double-edged blade slice into his flesh and draw blood to pelt the snow underneath them, he ignored. He was focused on the wild wolf that he had bested.

"M'lady."

"Bullheaded bastard." She grumbled, which only caused him to grin before without thinking he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He had expected her to shove him away and wipe her mouth, call him every damn foul word in Westeros if she wanted. Hell even punch him for even attempting to assault her like that considering she was highborn and he was baseborn. He knew better, but she didn't do what he expected. Instead, he felt her gloved hand slowly twist her fingers into the short strands of his dark hair and pull him closer; deepening the kiss. Battling with himself, he broke their kiss and helped her stand upright before turning his back quickly to her. His hand clasped over his mouth before sliding down to rub his chin in deep thought. "That wasn't supposed to happen." He muttered voice muffled against his hand as he tried to make sense of what the seven hells really happened just now. But all he could feel was the softness of her lips against his and the sweet taste of ale off her tongue.


	5. Chapter 5

Hazel eyes stared up at the stone ceiling of her chambers, her furs wrapped around her petite frame as her fingers lightly touched her bottom lip. Recollecting a few nights ago of the predicament on how his lips felt against hers. It had a strange sensation, this feeling. Alien even. There was a warmth in her belly that spidered its way through her entire being. Leaving her heartbeat erratic and her thoughts muddled.

"The bloody hell is wrong with you girl?" She hissed to herself as she sat upright in her featherbed, strands of her chestnut hair falling her face as the rest of its mass fell unkempt over her shoulders. Absentmindedly she played with a strand, taking notice that her hair was getting relatively long. Sighing loudly, she shoved her furs off her petite frame. Smoothing down her small clothes before looking down at her body, taking in its features with slight consideration, before dropping her hands in discouragement. It wasn't like she looked like her sister Sansa, she would never look like her elder sister; the beauty of Winterfell. The spitting image of their mother Catelyn while she looked much like their aunt Lyanna or so people stated. But she was a beauty and Arya was not. No one saw Arya the way they saw Lyanna, granted her Aunt was a fierce warrior and beloved by all. Arya could never compare nor could she ever see what everyone else saw. Because Arya felt that it wasn't necessary to be beautiful what was important was survival. Knowing how to fight, how to win, how to live. So why was this bothering her? It wasn't like Gendry saw her in the way men saw Sansa. Arya wasn't pretty, she was boyish. Dirty. Her hands were coarse and her hair was always such a mess, sometimes she'd even find straws of hay weaved within the strands. She was far from ladylike and Gendry knew it, so why did he kiss her when it wasn't supposed to happen?

Chewing her bottom lip, she looked down at her form again. Her petite fingers running along the curves of her hips. The slender grooves that flattened upon the pooch that was her belly. Dipping into her undergarments that were gradually getting smaller on her by the day. She didn't notice her growth, but it seemed that everyone else did. The boys she hung out with didn't look at her the same as they once did. Jon acted more protective over her than he used to, once in playful jest was now in passive aggressiveness. Sighing she grabbed a loose tunic and brown breeches, slipping them on before yanking on her leather boots as she hobbled out her chamber door as she struggled to open it.

Smoothing her unkempt chestnut brown hair, she closed the door behind her. Locking it before letting the key fall into her left pocket as she made her way down the hall. It wasn't like she didn't know where she was going, but she also wasn't paying attention to where her feet were taking her. Stone walls passed her peripheral vision, banners of her house as well as Targaryen decorated their walls. Lightly disturbed by the quick pace that the young Stark girl was going before she took a sharp turn, heading to the Master's Turret just outside. The light clanking of metal against metal was slight against the clashing of swords from the men that were training, but Arya could hear it. Faint as it was.

Rushing down the stairs, she was greeted by the very men she had heard training with bows and formal acknowledgments. Of which she greeted with a nod, but she was focused. A wolf after it's prey. After slipping past the men, she made her way toward the smithy. Following the sound but keeping out of sight, she felt her heart hammer in her chest before the hammering of the anvil stopped. Causing a slight cause of panic to rise within the lone wolf, before seeking a corner and watched at the blacksmith barely in the doorway.

"I know you're there Arry," Gendry grumbled causing Arya to sigh and come out of her hiding place. Folding her arms over her chest when their eyes met. "Well aren't you an observant one lately." She muttered causing him to shake his head, laughing slightly.

"Gotta be in these times, don't know when someone is bound to stab you with a needle or a sword." This caused Arya to shrug then rolling her eyes away from him as her lips parted in an attempt to speak, but he began to work on reshaping the blade before him. The singing of the anvil being the only thing between them as she glanced around. Wandering she stood by an assortment of rapiers and blades. Her hands dancing delicately upon the thin metals, admiring his work before her hazel eyes flicked to the side, observing him with curiosity. She always enjoyed watching him work. He was always so dedicated to whatever piece he had in front of him.

"So about that kiss -"

"It was a mistake, Arya." He interrupted, hammering harder upon the blade in an attempt to drown out her voice but she continued to persist.

"How so?"

"Because."

"Because?"

"Because it was a moment of weakness, it will not happen again."

"What if I want it to happen again?"

"It cannot..."

"Why not?"

"Because I am too lowborn for milady high."

"Oh will you bloody stop that." She growled, causing him to stop hammering on the heated blade and look up at her bewildered. "That got your attention, did it?" Sighing, defeated. He tossed his smithing hammer to the side. Grabbing the heated blade and shoved it into a pail of water, watching as the steam rolled off the cured metal while wiping the sweat from his brow. Trying to cover up the fact that she had taken him by surprise, which caused the young wolf to growl in annoyance. He chuckled slightly as he looked over his shoulder watching her, egging her to go on with his blue eyes trained on her. "And?"

"And... I'm tired of you saying you're too lowborn for me."

"But it's true?"

"That isn't the point I am trying to make." Arya stammered then, causing his brow to furrow confused now as he twisted around to look at her then. His arms slowly folding against his chest as he cocked his head to the side. "Oh, then what is the point that you're trying to make... since I am clearly too bullheaded to understand."

"Seven hells, Gendry." She hissed, a flush slowly spreading along her pale cheeks. Causing her to avoid his blue eyes as she looked at the men training over yonder. "The point I'm trying to make is that maybe I don't want to be bound to a man that would never love me for who I am. To be confined to a featherbed to bear children than to bear arms. I am not Sansa." She stated before he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"But you are a lady."

"Do not call me a lady!"

"As milady commands..." He huffed in defeated, it was impossible to argue with her. Regardless of the fact, she still was of noble birth and he was of a bastard born. Before he could react, he felt himself knocked to the ground by a force he was not prepared to face by such a small girl. Yet she had managed to have knocked him over, growling he twisted their fall upon the ground to where he hovered over her. "Knock it off, Arya."

To prevent her from hitting him further, he clasped his hands around her wrists causing her to growl. Tugging at his hold, she glared at him through her tears. She hated how his stupid face made her feel less angry then she had been prior, she hated how just the sound of his stupid voice quailed the rage within. She screwed her eyes shut as she felt his hot breath light on her forehead before she felt his kiss. Squirming embarrassed, she bucked her body against his before the grip around her wrists tightened. Sighing he leaned back to gaze down at her with a quirked brow. Taking note that she was indeed angry at him but he couldn't help taking in her features, the green tint of her hazel eyes. The light dust of freckles along her cheeks and nose, the fair colored skin of her cheeks that were shaded pink. "Not fair." She muttered.

 _ **writer's note: sorry this took so long guys... work has been hectic lately but I do hope you enjoy this.**_


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